The Rules

There are many rules to living in this house. Many many rules. That wouldn't be so bad except I usually don't know there is a rule pertaining to a specific situation until after I've broken it. Here's a sample of the new home rules:

1. No food or drink allowed out of the kitchen.
This is by far the most important and most violated rule in the house. My dad will remind any repeat offenders of the cost of the carpet upstairs, and that accidents may happen but they are not acceptable. He has a small camera that sits on the stairwell banister, supposedly for security purposes, and sets a timer on it overnight to snap pictures, so that if someone breaks in, he'd see them. I think this a cover up and that it's used to see if someone is bringing food downstairs. My sisters both lived at home last year and said they mastered the art of carrying food downstairs until pictures on my dad's cell phone carrying Popeye's bags proved otherwise.

2. No water may escape outside the bathtub for any reason.
When we were teens, we must have showered with the curtain open and dumped a bucket of water on the bathroom floor for good measure. Or there were just four people in and out of that bathtub throughout the day and water inevitably got on the floor, and we were much too lazy to wipe it up because there is a water stain over the garage that sparks the nagging of the shower. I don't know, living on my own for several years and having my own things, I'd *hope* I'm a bit neater about the water on the bathroom floor. Then again, the ex complained one time he couldn't wear socks in the bathroom after I showered, so perhaps I've never learned. I shower at 6:30am, and no one is up, so I only hear this on the weekends or the occasional evening when my dad feels like he may have forgotten to remind me, "there better not be any water on the bathroom floor!" My sister was home much of the day when she lived there, and can testify that if you shower when he's home, he will remind you...every time you take a shower.

3. Do not go upstairs Sunday night after 9pm and dad is on the computer....
Unless you want to be roped into watching "Corner Gas" for an hour at the laptop.

Just kidding. I actually enjoy "Corner Gas."

4. DO NOT EVER GO NEAR DAD'S TRUCK.
My second week of living at the house, my dad was so kind as to help me check out some issues with the oil in my car. Before we could do this, he asked me to help him carry a trashcan to the curb. My keys in my right hand and the garbage can handle in my left, I helped as we walked between his truck and my mom's car. Now, the motion of walking caused my arms to swing a little more exaggeratedly and in doing this, my tiny flashlight on my key ring ever so lightly tapped my dad's truck. My dad immediately stopped walking, set down the trashcan, and with his bulging eyes, turned to me, then to his truck to inspect any scratches. Then got on me about potential scratches. Then wanted me to examine where other "scratches" were on his truck. Lesson learned- do not, under any circumstance, park next to, walk next to, swing arms next to dad's truck.

The first post

So here I am. My life, as many can relate, took a very different direction than I ever expected and I am still trying to adjust to my new life. First, a quick run down and introduction. Hi, my name is Susan. I'm 26 (about to be 27 in September, I'm not sure why I insist on following up 26 with "I'll be 27 in September, but I've been doing it since January). In January 2010, I graduated from the University of Maryland, College Park, eight long years after I first started college. I was living with my best friend and the only man I've ever loved. We had a cute apartment with a big kitchen and three cats that had personalities so unique, you'd swear they talked human instead of cat meows. I'd make him lunch for work and I'd have dinner ready when he got home; I loved life and life was good. This is where it starts to go down hill. It took me six months to find a job and that ended up being at an electronic cigarette company where I was the only native American and I did customer service for them. I took this position because I was slotted to move with my boyfriend of 3 years to Montana, where we were going to finish (well, me go back to) school, and I was going to be a teacher and he was going to be a successful graphic designer and/or musician, and we needed money to fund our move. Plans change as he decided he no longer wants to date me for a plethora of reasons that basically boiled down to "I don't know if I will ever want kids." If this is the only, true reason, I do not, or maybe will ever, know as he apparently does not want to talk to me, but more about that later. I will write more about the e-cigarette place at a later date as well, but I left them a week ago to return to a non profit that I have for the past four years worked for as a temporary meetings assistant, that will probably never make me a permanent employee, as you do not have to give benefits or high pay to someone who will essentially beg for her position back every June. I do enjoy working with people who are as intellectually challenging, politically simulating, and hilarious as my coworkers, plus I get to travel, so that's fun.

Life gets better. Because of the break up and the fact that I have had no money/steady job until now, it was necessary for me to move back in with my parents. They were extremely kind and generous to allow me to move back in, but I will say that after 7 years of being at least semi on my own, moving back in with them has been a challenge. One is what my url is named after, again, a different story for a different time. Right now I'm doing introductions.

My life, in short, is ridiculous. I've been told for ages that I need to write out my life for others to read, so I will take this as my opportunity. My parents are crazy but wonderful, my best friend if insane and my life is absolutely not what I dreamed about. I can tell you in all honesty, I would never have thought at 26, almost 27, I'd be sitting at a computer in the downstairs bedroom aptly nicknamed "the green cave" in my parents' house, typing out this at 12:35am, while buzzed on cheap beer that I had to sneak downstairs because my dad doesn't allow any liquids anywhere in the house that has carpet. Coors light is sorta like water though. But, I can laugh at my life and I hope you can too.